


heaven & hell were words to me

by boogiewonderland



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cuddly Castiel (Supernatural), Cuddly Dean Winchester, Deancas cuddles, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Sleepy Cuddles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touch-Starved Castiel (Supernatural), Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, bc i said so and they're cute like that, bc theyre boyfriends <3, bc we deserve it, because fuck the cw thats why, dean calls cas bubba, dean canonically fucked an entire mens baseball team, dean winchester cares about castiel, john winchester i hope you're rolling in your grave, pure fluff, remember that - Freeform, yeah <3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29576568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boogiewonderland/pseuds/boogiewonderland
Summary: cas is having a hard time adapting to human life. dean helps him find some peace.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 81





	heaven & hell were words to me

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all this is pure fluff bc its what we deserve considering what we've been through

Ever since the fall, Castiel had not been able to have a good night’s rest. Losing his grace really took a toll on him, and he was not accommodating to human life as well as he had hoped. He didn’t like the texture of certain foods, his clothes were scratchy, and urination was more than bothersome. He expressed his misgivings to Dean and Sam regularly, but there was not much he could do about these new inconveniences. 

The concept of teeth-brushing was something especially foreign; Dean had to stand next to the bathroom sink for weeks while Cas attempted to scrub his pearly whites. The skill was not one that could be learned overnight, and many times, Dean took the blue toothbrush from the former-angel’s hand and brushed Cas’ teeth for him; he held Cas’ chin in one hand and gently brushed with the other. Not that Cas (or Dean, but if you asked him, he would deny it) minded, but he would need to master these skills if he were to survive in the real world. 

Another problem was clothing. While Cas did appreciate his business-casual look consisting of a suit and trench coat, he soon realized that it was not practical, and he got very overstimulated by the sensations of the fabrics on his skin. He was able to find a pair of very soft sweatpants from the thrift store that didn’t make him want to rip his skin off, so those became part of his regular rotation. He often wore Dean’s flannels during the daytime; they were soft and had a familiar smell in an unfamiliar new world of uncomfortable experiences. His feet did not appreciate the confines of socks, nor shoes, so he wandered the bunker barefoot. When he absolutely had to leave the house, he wore boots similar to Dean’s, making sure that both shoes were tied exactly the same, ensuring that both feet were met with symmetrical pressure from the laces. 

During the nighttime, he did not appreciate laying in his bed covered in clothing, it made him anxious. The sheets were already irritating enough, he did not need to add unnecessary fabric into the mix. His sleep attire consisted of simply a specific, soft brand of briefs -- he would wear a shirt, but he felt bad about wearing Dean’s old band tees, even when he offered. 

His biggest issue was sleep -- rather, lack of it. His bed was too hot, then too cold, too big, too small. So, each night, he tossed and turned, shirtless, until he passed out from exhaustion. Some nights, he would wander around the bunker, investigating it’s every crevice, just to pass the time. He would wander every hallway, look in every door, run his fingers across every book on each shelf. He figured out which floorboards were creaky, and made it a game to quietly hop around the underground home to avoid waking the brothers. 

He seldom remembered to drink water throughout the day without being reminded. There were always empty mugs and cups dispersed across all surfaces, evidence of the many times a day that Dean would silently place a glass of water on whichever table or desk that Cas was sitting at. Cas would thank him with a smile, which Dean returned. 

Other nights, he would sit on the counter in the kitchen, sipping water from a coffee mug, because, “You need to stay hydrated, Cas,” was a phrase constantly being spoken from Dean’s mouth. Tonight was one of those nights.   
He sat atop the kitchen counter, legs dangling, heels hitting the cabinet as he swung his feet back and forth. As he sipped his cold water, a chill rushed over his bare arms and back, goosebumps arising on the tops of his thighs, hair standing up on the back of his neck. His yellow coffee mug with bee designs sat to his left -- Dean got it for him from a tacky gift shop in Oregon, it was his favorite. Cas still remembered the day Dean came home with it; a wide grin spread across his face as he watched Cas carefully unwrap the green tissue paper to reveal the mug he now cherished. 

The hum of the heater filled his ears as he stared at the wooden floors. The soft, steady beat of Cas’ heels against the wood was barely noticeable. Movement caught his eye, and he glanced up.

It was Dean, padding into the kitchen, and he looked about as tired as Cas felt. He was wearing a worn Led Zeppelin tee and briefs that were not the same soft brand as Cas’. Dean was not as particular about his undergarments as the former-angel. His hair was soft and mussed, and he had dark circles under his eyes. 

“Hey, Cas, you okay?” Dean asked, strolling closer to the dark-haired man. He stood about a foot from Cas, making sure not to get kicked from the swinging legs. His expression was soft and worrisome.

Cas sighed. “I’m having a very hard time falling asleep. I’m very tired, however, which is ironic. Humans fall asleep when they’re tired. But, it seems that I do not have this ability.”

“Happens to the best of us, ‘specially me, you know that, too” Dean replied with a soft smile. He inched closer to the counter.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, Cas’ heels still softly pounding against the lower cabinets. Cas twiddled his thumbs and stared at his lap. Dean looked at Cas with a tender gaze.

“Dean?” Cas inquired, looking up to meet his eyeline. 

Dean tilted his head to the right slightly. “Yeah?” 

“Will you hold me?” asked Cas, in a voice so soft it could barely be heard. The inner corners of his eyebrows were raised, creating a pained expression. 

“Oh, bub, of course, come here,” Dean responded, in a voice just as soft as Cas’. 

Cas slid off the counter and stood in front of Dean. He laid his head on the taller man’s shoulder, and slumped against his body. Dean wrapped strong, yet, oh so gentle arms around the other man, using one hand to cradle the base of his neck, and the other to rub soothing circles into his bare back. Cas reciprocated, wrapping his own arms around Dean’s middle. Dean carded his hand through Cas’ dark locks on the back of his head, slightly rocking the both of them back and forth as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Cas nestled his head into the space between his shoulder and the base of his neck, trying to get impossibly closer to Dean. Dean pressed gentle kisses into Cas’ hair, impossibly soft lips against equally soft locks. He continued to rub circles into the shorter man’s back, the soothing motions allowing Cas to relax his muscles and let himself go slack in Dean’s arms.

“You’re okay, bubba. I’ve got you. Being a human is hard -- I, of all people, would know. I’m not gonna let anything get to you. You’re okay,” were the words softly whispered into Cas’ ear, a reminder of Dean’s care. 

Cas nestled into Dean’s neck further. 

“Do you want to go try to sleep, Cas?”

“I suppose.”

Reluctantly, Cas untangled himself from Dean and started toward his bedroom. When Cas reached the door to his room, however, there was a hand on his shoulder.

“Why don’t you stay in my room tonight? You might be able to sleep better, you probably don’t want to be alone right now,” Dean said.

Cas nodded and turned around. Dean placed a hand on the small of his back and led them to Dean’s room. He opened the door and gestured for Cas to enter.

Dean took the right side of the bed and opened up the covers for Cas to climb in next to him. Cas did just this, clinging to Dean like a lifeline. Dean held on to him just the same, one hand rubbing his back, the other in his hair, just like in the kitchen. Cas just clung to Dean more, breathing in the scent of his Zeppelin tee. 

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Don’t thank me. I got you, anytime. You know I love you, right?”

“I inferred.”

Dean chuckled.

“Go to sleep, bubba. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Cas’ breathing eventually evened, and the pair woke up in the same position the next morning.


End file.
